The bordello’s bathhouse was a cavernous space built directly beneath the house, carved directly out of the firm rock of the mountain, and lit only by soft arcane lights that drifted lazily over a glittering surface of clear water that sparkled with rejuvenative minerals. It was a temple to water and sensuality. Towering pillars lined the luminous cavern, stretching up through its deep pools to a vaulted ceiling high above where an ornate mural of divine grace peered down at those bathing below.
Looking up, one would see the goddess of love and sex sprawled erotically and naked across the vaulted ceiling, like the Grecian Aphrodite, only cast demonic. Her skin was prismatic, a flame beneath a soft moonlit night. Her horns were a heavy crown, dire and regal. A curtain of silken, polychromatic hair draped down her enchanting, curvaceous body like a flimsy gown, doing little to shield the goddess’ comely form from invited eyes.
It was also clear that the depicted goddess was a hermaphrodite. A divine member rested heavy and intimidatingly on her painted thigh.
Blushing hotly once more, Autumn tore her eyes away from the erotic mural to take in the rest of the grand bathing room.
Aside from the enormous glimmering pool that stretched from one end of the chamber to the other, there was a large stony space in front of the stairs that housed an unwalled massage parlor to one side, and a series of nude statues depicting the goddess above on the other side along the wall. From nude statues’ raised and cupped palms poured forth a waterfall of cleansing water to wash away the road dust and fatigue of those standing beneath the flow. Wicker baskets rested beside the stairs, waiting for dirty clothes, while cubbyholes housed fluffy white towels.
There wasn’t much in the way of privacy, it seemed, although Autumn should’ve expected such given the place it was built under.
“So,” Lia asked, standing beside Autumn as she gawked. “What do you think? Impressive, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Autumn said, taking another incredulous look around the massive chamber. “But how…? How was this built here? Isn’t space highly regulated or something in the city? This seems…excessive.”
The bunnykin smiled, showing her glimmering, pearly-white teeth. “The madam has a lot of sway with the city council and with the governess. Now, come on, I didn’t bring you down here to discuss city ordinances,” she said, pushing Autumn towards the statuesque showers. “Get those clothes off and wash the road dust off yourself. Me and Saph will do your hair afterwards. It really needs some maintenance."
“You can count on us!” Saphielle cheered.
Although she was embarrassed to bare her body before them, Autumn quickly stripped down before the two did it for her, treating the experience like showering in the girl’s locker room after gym. Her battered body complained, as while she’d recovered somewhat over the long days since she’d escaped the Feywild, her snowy skin still bore the marks of her ordeal. Like a map, sickly yellow, blue, and black bruises adorned her alongside the dead’s cold handprints.
The two women behind her made faint noises of sympathy upon seeing the healing evidence of her misery in all its stark glory decorating her body.
Autumn blushed. Covering her nethers, she hurriedly ducked beneath the flowing waters, letting out a hiss as the cool wetness cascaded down her maltreated self. The waters instantly wet her hair before tracing a dark path around and over her tense muscles, flowing past her breasts and hips to empty almost black into the drain at her feet. Thankfully, with the aid of a thick bar of scented soap, she was able to clean herself rather quickly.
While her shower was brisk, it was refreshing.
Once she was as clean as she was going to get, Autumn stepped out of the shower and hurriedly wrapped herself up in a fluffy towel. Unfortunately, and rather annoyingly, she hadn’t had the grace to find a razor blade in a long while, and now her legs, armpits, and her mons pubis were coated in stubbly growth. What she wouldn’t give for a razor right about now!
Alas, there wasn’t anything to be done.
Looking around, she saw only the dark-skinned Lia patiently waiting for her over in the massage parlor side of the chamber. Of Saphielle and her dirty clothing, there was no sight. Sighing to herself, Autumn made sure her towel was wrapped around her tightly before making her way over to the beastwoman. “Where are my clothes?” she asked shyly.
Lia smiled gently. “Saphielle took them to get washed. She said she’ll bring you a clean set of hers to wear in the meantime. Although, I wonder if they’ll fit you. She is a fair bit thinner than you, even if your heights are similar.”
“That's…nice of her?”
“That girl has too many clothes as it is,” Lia wryly said. “She can share a few. Now, while we wait, we can do something with that unruly mane of yours.” Her words caused the young witch to touch her wet, tangled mess of hair sorrowfully. “Don’t worry, we’ve got magic on our side.”
With practiced hands, the taller woman guided Autumn to sit at the edge of the pool, allowing the younger girl’s roadworn feet to rest in the rejuvenating waters, before she strode purposefully over to a tall cabinet resting along the back wall. From within it, Lia withdrew an armload of clinking flasks filled with colorful concoctions.
“These are for your hair and skin,” she said upon returning. The beastkin woman placed the flasks on the stone beside them as she knelt behind Autumn with a comb in hand. “We’ll use the hair-detangler tonic first, then move onto the cleansers and strengtheners. You have some nice curls, so we’ll use a tonic to help keep them from tangling in the future, alongside one to keep it from bleaching or graying.”
Autumn blinked languidly, having fallen slightly into a daze as Lia ran a comb gently through her hair, teasing out the knots. She wasn’t unused to a deluge of haircare products in her daily routine back home, but this seemed excessive. And she told Lia as much.
The bunnykin chuckled. “Honey, this is nothing. We haven’t even started on your skincare! Do you want me to help you remove any unwanted body hair? It’s in style around here. Demons and demonesses don’t grow hair anywhere other than on top of their heads or for eyebrows, so people like to emulate them.”
Autumn’s mind stalled. “What?” she said. She’d just been lamenting the lack of personal grooming in her life. And hearing that about demonkin explained some of the things she’d personally witnessed of Nethlia. Not that she’d looked intentionally! It’d been an accident! “You mean, like, permanently?"
“Permanently until you take a conflicting potion.”
“...is it safe?”
Lia nodded. “It is. The alchemist we buy from has a good reputation and hasn’t given us a bad product yet. I use it myself, and I haven’t had a reaction or noticed any side effects.”
Chewing on her lip for a moment, Autumn nodded hesitantly. “Alright, I’ll try it. But, um, do you think I should remove all of it? Like,
down there?
” she said, flushing awkwardly.
“Only if you want to,” Lia said, giving Autumn a knowing look. “Don’t change yourself to impress someone unless you desire to. I doubt she’ll care about a little fuzz.”
Autumn’s pale cheek ignited to an even greater blaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I’m sure.”
Ignoring the fluttering of her heart as she thought about a certain demoness, Autumn let Lia help her apply the magical balm to her skin, working it gently into her arms, legs, and back. She dealt with her front herself, although she was too shy to apply it to her groin with the other woman watching.
The magical cream was warm and tingling. Within moments, it took effect. And when they washed it off with warm water, it took a coating of short hairs with it, leaving Autumn’s skin smooth and supple.
Next, they dealt with her unruly hair. Potion after potion, tonic after tonic was massaged into her scalp and through her dark locks, coating the strands evenly with haircare magic. Lia’s expert hands fought her mane with grace and care, untangling her knots, snipping her split-ends, and taming her curls into something that looked like an intended style. A simple braid kept the majority of her hair out of her eyes.
Just as they were finishing up, Saphielle came hurtling down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. In her arms lay a bundle of clean clothing. Upon seeing Autumn’s hair already done up, she let out a cry. “I missed it?!”
“Just about,” Lia said. She put the final twist into the braid she was making, threading it behind Autumn’s head like a maiden’s crown. The rest of the wavy black locks cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall.
Looking into a small compact mirror the beastkin handed her, Autumn could hardly believe that it was her looking back. The transformation was too great! No longer did she look like a feral, shaggy beast picked up from the roadside, but like an actual person now. Princess-like even! Her hair was shiny! Her skin was soft overtop her muscles! Even her emerging blackheads and pimples had vanished!
“Aww~” Saphielle pouted, coming to a stop behind the pair. “I wanted to do her hair up in an elven style!”
Lia rolled her eyes, sharing a subtle smile with Autumn, who returned it shyly. “I’m sure she’ll let you put her hair up another day if you ask nicely. Now, don’t you have something for her to wear?” she asked pointedly.
Autumn jolted at the reminder. Right now, she was only wearing a damp towel around her waist. Hurriedly, she pulled it back up to cover her breasts as she clambered awkwardly to her feet with Lia’s aid, looking imploringly at the elven girl and the fresh clothing she bore.
“Oh! Right! Here,” Saphielle said, handing over the bundle. “I grabbed a set that I thought might fit!”
While distinctly elven in cut with flowing lines and curling ascents, the outfit wasn’t as revealing as she’d feared, although it clung to her tightly. Saphielle had brought her a pair of high-waisted, cream-toned tights, a white sleeveless top with a golden collar, a mint green half-cape hooded shawl, and a pair of soft, almost knee-high brown boots.
“How do I look?” Autumn asked nervously after dressing, standing awkwardly in front of the pair of courtesans.
“The picture of beauty,” Lia said encouragingly. Saphielle, on the other hand, shared her thoughts along a different tact. “Like you’re worth fifty gold a lay!”
“Saphielle!”
Autumn blushed as Lia admonished the bubbly elf. She decided to take the slender girl’s words as a compliment. “Do I really look nice?” she asked bashfully.
Lia and Saphielle shared a smile between themselves. “Absolutely,” they both said, although with differing volumes. “You’ll knock her boots off!” Saphielle cheered, which Lia quietly giggled at as Autumn denied any such accusations or assertions that she was aiming to knock anyone's boots off.
“Either way,” the beastwoman said, clearing her throat. “We’d best get back up before they send someone looking for us. Nethlia’ll likely have finished up her meeting by now.”
Suddenly, all the nervousness Autumn had done a good job forgetting about came roaring back with a vengeance. Her stomach did a backflip before filling itself up with butterflies. This felt worse than being called into the principal’s office.
“You’ll be fine,” Lia reassured her. “The madam is a kind person. She’ll hear you out, at the very least.”
Autumn nodded. Mustering her fleeting courage, she ascended the stairs back up into the bordello proper. By now, the evening was in full swing, and the faint sounds of conversation and satyric frivolity echoed from the rest of the house. There was soft singing filling the air alongside the trilling pluck of musical strings.
Looking ahead, she spied a lonesome, herculean demoness loitering lost outside of the room Autumn was meant to be within. Spying them in turn, Nethlia perked up and went to speak. “There you are! The madam…” she trailed off, speechless, having gotten a good look at Autumn’s transformation.
She looked a little silly with her jaw hung open.
Autumn’s face flushed red with prideful embarrassment. She preened slightly beneath Nethlia’s hot gaze. Her heart beat like thunder’s drum. For a long moment, neither said anything, just stared at one another within the amorous ambience.
Behind Autumn, Lia and Saphielle let out excited giggling.
The pitched sound broke through Nethlia’s spell of admiring intoxication. Her red cheeks darkened quite visibly. She let out an embarrassed cough before speaking hurriedly. “The madam wants to speak with you, Autumn! We shouldn’t keep her waiting!”
“Right!” Autumn squeaked. “I’ll just grab my things!” In a panicked rush, she brushed past Nethlia into the breakroom to grab her hat and coat, along with her bag and spellbook.
Outside the room, she heard Lia and Saphielle approach Nethlia, and while they pitched their voices low to speak privately with the demoness out of Autumn’s earshot, she still heard them whispering. “I didn’t think you’d go for the human girls! Looking to complete the set?”
“Saph! It’s not like that!” Nethlia hurriedly said.
Saphielle snorted. “Come off it~ You’ve bedded more than your fair share of demonesses, elven girls, beastkin women, a handful of planesforged, and even a nice dwarven lass. That’s not even mentioning those we don’t know about, you dirty girl, you! She’s clearly into you, so just throw her down on your bed already, or a pile of straw if you’re feeling rustic!”
“What my loudmouthed compatriot meant,” Lia said irritably as she jabbed the elf lightly in the ribs, “is that Autumn is a lovely girl and we’re proud to see you making friends with her, and for bringing her to see us.”
“Yeah! And if she wants more than just fingers, I’ve got a Goddess’ Blessing potion stashed away. I bet a woman your size would grow a mighty cock–Mmff?!” Saphielle’s voice cut off as a hand swiftly clamped itself around her mouth.
Autumn thought her face might catch on fire with how much she was blushing today. She exited the room with her hat planted firmly on her head and coat draped over her shoulders. Her heavy bag was clutched in front of herself like a shield and she avoided looking anyone in the eye.
When she braved to look up, she saw an annoyed Lia had Saphielle in a headlock with her hand planted firmly across the chatterbox’s mouth. Nethlia stood across from the pair, blushing heavily. She couldn’t look Autumn in the eyes like the witch with her.
“Um,” Autumn cleared her throat. “S-should we head up?”
Nethlia started. “Right! I’ll show you the way!” Swiftly, like her tail was on fire, the demoness marched over to the flight of stairs leading up with Autumn in tow, and they quickly climbed them to the third floor.
The third floor was more ornate and richly decorated than the other two floors below, clearly meant to entertain a higher class of clinette as they awaited a meeting with the madam, or just wished for a more intimate setting for their liaisons. Gilded paintings hung proudly along the hallway between plush fainting couches and velvet cushions. Red light streamed in through the curtained windows, bathing the corridor in the district’s glow alongside softly glowing arcane candles spaced evenly along the walls.
Before she could take it all in, Autumn was quickly led down the hallway atop a long runner to a rich door halfway down. Nethlia stopped beside it. “This is the madam’s office,” she said softly. “I’ve told her most of what you told me. Just…just go in and be honest with her. She’ll understand. I promise.”
“You’re not going in with me?”
Nethlia shook her head. “She asked to speak with you alone.”
Autumn gulped. Steeling herself, she pushed her heavy pack into her friend’s arms, brushing herself down to make sure she was still presentable. “Wish me luck?”
“Good luck,” the demoness said with a reassuring smile. Reaching out, Nethlia knocked lightly on the door, and pushed it open after a stern, matronly voice called out for her to enter.
Through a darksome portal, Autumn darkly stepped, nervous and afraid as she entered the lair of the bordello’s madam.
Looking around, as she’d done a lot today, she took in the space she’d found herself treading.
The madam’s office was no stranger than any other headmaster’s office that she’d seen before or found herself within, only done up in fantasy livery rather than modern, soul-sucking bureaucracy. Rows of elegant bookcases and ornate cabinets lined the walls, filled with leather-bound books and curious artifacts, in between hanging silken banners. Curtains hung along the outer wall, framing crystal windows that let in the evening’s ruddy glow.
Autumn’s eyes were instinctively drawn to a massive portrait of an old demoness that hung on the back wall behind a rich, lacquered desk. As she was looking at it, a stern voice spoke up, startling her. “Empress Zarissa, long may she live.”
Jumping near clean out of her skin, Autumn’s gaze snapped down to the mature demoness she’d somehow missed, who was sitting primly behind the lacquered desk in a high-backed chair. Only a single eyebrow rose to show her amusement at the human girl’s fright.
The matron possessed aristocratic features with high cheekbones, sharp eyes, and a set of thin, rarely impressed lips. Her skin was a pure ivory-white that bore her wise age well, while her swept-back hair was a bright bloody red. Like all demonkin, she possessed a pair of horns atop her head. However, hers were short and incredibly thick, encompassing the entire sides of her head from her crown to her jawline, enclosing around her ears like a dark-red shell.
The most striking feature of her appearance was a ghastly scar that ran diagonally down her face. Starting at her hairline on the left side of her face, it cut down through a manicured eyebrow and one milky eye before slicing down her cheek past her nose and through the center of her lips to terminate at the crest of her proud chin.
Gold glinted on chains and rings decorated her horns and ears. The madam dressed augustly, her body wreathed in a high-collared dress of fine silks, dark leathers, and costly metals. A steel brooch depicting one goddess or another lay clasped across her ivory chest, framed by the keyhole cut in her gown.
A single red eye scrutinized the human girl standing within her sanctum. “Good,” Kharzina Maximovna, the bordello’s madam, said, breaking the silence. “You clean up well. Take a seat, child.”
It wasn’t a request.
Autumn hurriedly planted herself in the comfy seat across from the madam. She glanced unsure at the demoness across from her as she respectfully took off her hat, placing it in her lap. “Um, it’s nice to meet you, Ma’am.”
“Hmm, that’s still to be determined,” Kharzina said humorlessly. Reaching down, she took a silver cigarette case and some snuff from her desk. “Smoke? Or would you like a drink?”
“Oh, um, no thank you, Ma’am.”
The madam hummed at her again before opening the case and carefully rolling herself up a cigarette. While she’d never seen tobacco before, Autumn knew that the Earthen stuff wasn’t purple, or that its smoke glittered and danced like the stuff the demoness before her exhaled. With the rolled cigarette between her lips, the mature woman had conjured a small flame on the tip of a manicured nail to light it in a causal display of magic.
“For the pain,” Kharzina explained as she exhaled to the side. “These old war wounds tend to act up when trouble darkens my doors.”
Autumn winced. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean any harm, I just don’t have anywhere to go. Once I’ve registered with the guild, I can stay there. Uh, Ma’am.”
Kharzina waved her off before taking another drag on her cigarette. The glittering smoke curled in the air like dancing nymphs. “You can cease your sorrowing, and stop calling me ‘Ma’am’ every sentence,” she said. “Little Nethlia has already explained your torments and tribulations to me, and if I cast you out, she’ll likely follow like a love-struck puppy. And besides, I’ve tangled with the likes of the fey before, I’ve come out better off for it.”
The grin the demoness sported sent shivers down Autumn’s spine, even if it lasted less than a glimpse.
Wait, Little Nethlia? Autumn blinked. There wasn’t a part of that demoness that could be called ‘little’! Schooling her expression, for all the good it did her, hope sprang to the forefront of her breast as she asked: “So I can stay?”
“Indeed,” the madam drawled, blowing out more smoke into the hazy air. “You can stay in my home. But that wasn’t the point of this meeting.”
“It wasn’t?” Autumn started, confused. “Then what was?”
Smoke coiled around the demoness’ face, obscuring everything but a glimmering red eye and scar-struck grin. “The point of this meeting was to inform you of your
responsibilities
as a member of this esteemed house,” she said, eye flashing. Autumn’s spine rioted with goosebumps. “And to figure out what
exactly
you can do for me. Little Nethlia mentioned that you had a
lovely
little singing voice~”
Would it be wrong of her to say that Autumn would rather be back fighting goblins right about now?